


Stay Under the Blankets (With Me)

by compo67



Series: Chicago Verse [129]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Banter, Dialogue-Only, Domestic, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Established Relationship, Growing Old Together, Grumpy Old Men, Light Angst, M/M, Married Life, Old Married Couple, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 15:06:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18284744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/compo67/pseuds/compo67
Summary: Dean has a fever, Sam buys paletas.





	Stay Under the Blankets (With Me)

 

“Sam. My paleta is trying to eat me.”

“Yes, Dean. Yes it is. Stay under the blankets.”

“I know you think I’ve lost it, but seriously. Look at it. It looks like a mouth.”

“Uh huh, I saw that the last time you mentioned this 5 minutes ago. I’m very proud. Where’s the thermometer.”

“Have I taught you nothing, Sammy? This is art. It’s the universe trying to speak and you just ignore it. You lawyer.”

“Yes, my job as a lawyer prevents me from fully appreciating your paleta. What a tragedy.”

“Ugh, it’s the worst. It’s like you’re from Venus and I’m from Mars.”

“We are different people, you know.”

“Fuck, that’s not what I wanna hear.”

“You have a fever. It’ll break soon. Just eat your paleta.”

“You’re right. I gotta eat it before it eats me. Good thinking, Professor. Oh my god, I love paletas. Thank you for bringing me one. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Please stay still. Stop fidgeting.”

“Listen. Listen to me, Sam. Sammy. Sam. Samuel.”

“It’s  _Sam_.”

“Holy fuck, I’m so sorry. Sam. Sammy. M sorry. Okay, listen. Woah. What are you…?”

“I’m getting in bed with you. You’re shaking.”

“I’m jus’ kinda cold.”

“I gathered.”

“Fuuuuuck, I like being the little spoon sometimes.”

“I wish I was recording this.”

“Recording what? You smell good. Like strawberries. I bought you shampoo from London for your birthday. I hid it in my sock drawer. Don’t tell Sam.”

“I won’t.”

“How are you so warm??? Did I finish my paleta?”

“Yeah, I chucked the stick for you. Stay still.”

“Listen.”

“I’m listening.”

“I’m gonna ask you out.”

“Uh huh.”

“If I don’t, you might think… I don’t care.”

“I don’t think that.”

“You’d be fine. You’ve always been that way. Like mom. But dad and I? Without you guys? Look what happens. I ate a mouth.”

“Shh. You’re making yourself upset. Everything’s fine.”

“You think if they were different, and you and I were different, that we would circle back?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah?”

“Always, Dean.”

“I’m so tired.”

“I know, that’s why you’re resting.”

“I feel like something is ending and I don’t know what.”

“Nothing’s ending.”

“You don’t feel it?”

“No, because nothing’s ending.”

“If I wasn’t your brother, you think you’d still fall for me?”

“I’m not with you because you’re my brother. I’m with you because you’re you.”

“That’s deep, Sam.”

“I’m a Professor, it’s what I do.”

“Sometimes I still gotta tell myself I didn’t do anything wrong. In this sense. This is one thing I didn’t fuck up.”

“You’re too hard on yourself.”

“I’ve done shit, Sam. Bad shit.”

“Hey. Feel this? My hand against your forehead? That’s real. This is real. What you’re worried about isn’t real.”

“I keep thinking about what if yellow eyes hadn’t existed. What if John and Mary just had two kids and that was that. I can’t decide if I would’ve grown up good or not.”

“Yeah, you would’ve. You would’ve been homecoming king and I’d have been on the chess team.”

“Fuck, that djin really screwed with my head that one time. We didn’t talk. At all.”

“I know, you’ve told me. That was more than twenty years ago. The djin lied. You’re here, in our bed, in our home, on our block, in our part of the world. That’s it. That’s real.”

“…you think they’d visit?”

“Who?”

“If we had told mom and dad, you think they’d visit?”

“I don’t know, Dean. I don’t think they’d understand.”

“We ain’t hurting no one. I didn’t hurt you.”

“No, you didn’t. You have a fever. It’s going to break soon. You have to get better. Mrs. Martinez wants to teach you mahjong.”

“You know, she knows.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“So it’s not all bad.”

“Absolutely not.”

“How far can we take this, Sam?”

“You and I?”

“Yeah.”

“To infinity and beyond.”

“What a dweeb.”

“Your face is a dweeb.”

“Your mom.”

“Is your mom, too, jackass.”

“Fuck! That’s right!”

“Wow.”

“Can I have another paleta?”

“Which flavor?”

“Coffee.”

“Oh,  _fuck_  no.”

**Author's Note:**

> well, this sinus infection is kicking my ass, but at least i've been writing these two??? it's been cathartic, honestly, with news of s15. as i wrote on tumblr and elsewhere, i'm not going anywhere and these two knuckleheads aren't either. i've built a nice little home here in this verse, and we ain't about to quit. i'm here if you're here.
> 
> i also, coincidentally, had a fever as i was writing this/after i wrote this and it didn't break until 2 hours later. i wish i had a sam. /heavy sigh/
> 
> comments are love! <3


End file.
